HeadSmoke
by AtomicJellybean
Summary: Talented photographer Sam Daley moved to Bridgeport to forget the past, but when he runs into an old friend at the Brightmore he finds himself being drawn back into the strange world of conspiracies and the occult he thought he'd left behind. This is my first story so please be nice! :) Disclaimer: I don't own the Sims 3, if I did I'd be much richer!
1. Chapter 1

Sam hated the Brightmore. He hated the heavy dance music, the epilepsy-triggering light shows and the oppressive heat that seemed to radiate from the very walls themselves, but most of all he hated the people. There were thousands of them, squished into every inch of available space, so close that Sam could feel the sweaty dampness of their clothes and smell the alcohol on their breath as they went past. The sooner he could get out of this place the better.

He took a deep breath and started to head towards the swanky bar at the end of the club. He was pretty sure he could make it there unharmed if he kept his head down and his thousand-simolean camera tucked well out of sight. He'd though that Renée Littler, his boss at the Bridgeport Times, was just being nice when she'd asked him to go to the Brightmore and get some pictures of Lola Belle, but no. He should have known better, since when had journalists ever been _nice_? Renée Littler had obviously only asked him to get the pictures because none of the more experienced photographers had the guts to go anywhere near the Brightmore.

After about five minutes he was about a metre closer to the bar and he felt a bubble of triumph in his chest. If he could just reach the bar he'd be able to ask the bartender if they'd seen Lola Belle, he could even moonlight as a mixologist for a while and wait for the unsuspecting celebrity to order a drink then snap her picture whilst she was waiting for him to make it. He smiled evilly. It was the perfect plan.

He was so close to the bar now, just a few more steps and he'd be there.

A small cold hand grabbed his wrist and pulled. He struggled against it for a second but then allowed himself to be pulled along, all thoughts of the bar and Lola Belle temporarily erased by his curiosity, it wasn't everyday somebody randomly grabbed your hand in the middle of the busiest club in Bridgeport and tried to pull you off to the murky depths of…somewhere.

"Hey, who are you?" Sam yelled in order too be heard above the thumping music and excited chatter of the dancers. Sam looked around, trying to find the person who a hold of his wrist "And for that matter, where are you?" he added.

"Close your eyes" a vaguely familiar voice whispered in his ear. After a few second he obeyed, his adventurous side getting the better of him. He heard a door open and the hand pulled him forward roughly ,a cool breeze hitting his face as the door slammed shut behind him, instantly muffling the sounds of the brightmore.

* * *

Sam opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times. He was standing outside the brightmore, round the back next to a couple of skips. Standing next to him was young woman, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily from the exertion of fighting to get out of the club. Sam looked at her closely, taking in her curly blonde hair and the light dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose. He felt like he knew her from somewhere but he couldn't figure out where. And then it dawned on him.

"Summer?!" He exclaimed, surprise clear in his voice. She was his best friend a long time ago, when he lived in Twinbrook, but she'd disappeared suddenly halfway through high school and nobody knew where she'd gone, there'd been search parties with the police and everything.

"Hey Sam," She grinned cheerfully, turning to face him "surprised?"

"What th-"Sam spluttered, flabbergasted. Summer cut him off by placing a perfectly manicured finger over his lips.

"Patience, grasshopper, all shall be revealed in time." She said lightly, before promptly grabbing the front of Sam's shirt and pulling him into a kiss.

Sam pulled away instantly, startled by her sudden display of affection. In school Summer hadn't displayed even the slightest hint of attraction towards Sam and had been perfectly happy to punch anyone who suggested they become a couple.

"What the hell Summer?" He said angrily.

"I missed you." She stated softly, tears brimming in her eyes. Sam looked at her and felt his heart breaking all over again.

"I missed you too." He said, wrapping his arms around her slim form before he started to cry too.

"I'm sorry I left" She said quietly, breaking away from the hug.

"That's okay, I just have one question though" Sam looked straight into her warm brown eyes, and she held his gaze solidly.

"Okay."

"Where did you go Summer?" He asked gently.

"I'm sorry, I… I can't tell you that, I wish I could, but I can't, I made a promise." She began to ramble, breaking eye contact to look at her shoes.

"That's alright"?" Sam sensed her discomfort and changed the subject. "Why are you at the Brightmore?"

Summer smiled excitedly "I'm here with my band, HeadSmoke; we have a gig here later on. We were just setting up when I noticed you wandering around looking lost." She spoke very quickly, her voice full of enthusiasm.

"I didn't look lost; I had a clear destination in mind!" Sam protested indignantly. Summer laughed,

"Okay, sure. By the way, the Brightmore's probably going to be a lot busier later on, so if you don't like crowds I suggest you either get drunk or get out." Summer was in full ramble mode and Sam was having a hard time keeping up with what she was saying "I also think that you should have my number, if you want to get back in touch." She handed him a blue business card with the words 'Summer Alton, HeadSmoke Double Bass, and 04938534' written on it in fancy italics.

"Err, thanks, I'll call you" Sam stuttered, taken aback by the flow of words coming from Summer's mouth. He definitely didn't remember her ever talking this much in high school.

"Great" She said smiling, she checked her watch "I'm sorry I have to go now, Ivy's probably wondering where I am, bye!" and with that, Summer dashed back in through the Brightmore's fire exit and out of Sam's life just as quickly as she'd come into it.

Sam sighed heavily, leaning back against the concrete wall with exhaustion. That was probably one of the most stressful encounters of his life so far, and he was with the paparazzi! He stayed there for a while, pondering the encounter as the first few droplets of a rainstorm hit his head. He wondered why Summer had been so dismissive, and why had she been so tense when he asked here where she'd been? He looked at the business card she'd given him, what kind of band had business cards? He supposed he should probably call her parents and tell them where she was, and the police as well for that matter. But then again, she'd probably already called them, and if she hadn't, she obviously had a reason for not doing so.

"I really need a drink." He moaned, and disappeared once more into the depths of the Brightmore.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sam groaned; his head hurt, his stomach hurt and he didn't have a clue where he was. He opened his eyes groggily, but closed them straight away because the room was spinning too much. Next to him, he heard a small snore and jumped in surprise. He sat up and took in his surroundings; he appeared to be in a small bedroom with blue walls covered in little black marker pen doodles, a narrow beam of sunlight filtered through a slit in a pair of patchwork curtains, there were several odd potted plants lining the edge of the room and balancing precariously on every piece of furniture available. With his survey of the surroundings, Sam quickly realized that he was lying on the floor under a woolly blanket, and he felt an instant rush of relief when he found he was still fully clothed in the same black skinny jeans and yellow puppy shirt as last night.

"Hello doun there" Sam jumped again as a voice somewhere to his left sent arrows of heat through his skull, he never knew a Scottish accent could cause so much pain! He turned round to face the voices owner; a beautiful woman with red-dyed hair down to her hips and a modestly short red silk night-dress. She was sitting on the edge of the huge double bed that took up nearly three-quarters of the room's limited floor space and was watching Sam with vague amusement.

"Hello…person… where is this…and, err, who are you?" Sam muttered, looking at her through a squint to protect his eyes from the evil sun. She chuckled lightly, and Sam could swear she even sounded Scottish when she laughed.

"Ya must 'ave been a mite more drunk last night than we thought if ya cannae remember me!" She exclaimed chirpily, with far too much energy for someone who'd been snoring five minutes earlier.

"Huh, I suppose so… but who _are_ you?" he replied foggily, desperately scrounging the darkest recesses of his mind for any shred of information on the events of the previous night. The woman laughed again, clearly having fun messing with him.

"Why don't ya come wit me for some coffee and ya can see if ya cannae figure it out?" she rose daintily to her feet and walked towards the door. Sam scrambled after her quickly, ignoring his quickly blossoming migraine to make sure he didn't lose his only guide in this lonely world of black marker pen doodles and potted plants.

* * *

"Cathy?" Sam asked, sounding rather tired.

"Nope." The woman replied from her place at the counter where she was busy making a fresh pot of coffee.

"Alex?"

"Try again."

"Lilly?"

"Next."

"Ruth?"

"I feel sorry for any poor lass named Ruth."

"Oh come on! I've been guessing for at least five minutes, could you at least give me a hint?" Sam whined, stretching his arms over the small metal table in the woman's kitchen and laying his head on its cool surface. Suddenly, he was struck by bolt of inspiration. "I know what your name is!" he exclaimed gleefully, digging his hands deep into his jeans pockets and pulling out the blue business card.

"What is it then?" The woman said impatiently.

"Summer Alton." Sam said, raising his head triumphantly.

"No, I do know a Summer Alton though" She said smirking.

"So do I or at least I use to…" Sam trailed off, drawn into the dark depths of introspection. He was beginning to remember more and more of the events of last night, the images assembled in his head like snapshots of an evening; walking into the Brightmore full of tense anticipation, being pulled outside by a mysterious stranger, finding out that said mysterious stranger was Summer Alton- his long-lost childhood friend, and then finally getting so smashed he could barely see straight and was willing to follow strange Scottish she-devils into their mysterious abodes.

"Still do as far as I can recall." Sam looked up as another voice appeared in the kitchen. Standing framed in the sleek metal archway was none other than Summer herself, dressed in a too big tee-shirt with her curly blond hair tied back so that she almost looked normal.

"From the sounds of things you an' Duncan had a good go at it last night" the mysterious woman winked at Summer knowingly and Summer's cheeks turned scarlet.

"Urrm, well, y…you see, I-"summer stuttered awkwardly

"Who's Duncan?" Sam questioned with a furrowed brow.

"He's, err, he's nobody." Summer managed to spit out awkwardly as the red-haired woman handed her a steaming cup of coffee in a 'world's best sister' mug.

"He's my brother." The red-haired woman said casually, placing a similarly gaudy mug on the table in front of Sam then taking a seat opposite him.

"Oh, okay." Sam said, taking a sip from the mug and wincing slightly at the temperature.

"He's also her husband" the woman added, gesturing towards Summer, who suddenly became very interested in her own feet. Sam stared at Summer bewildered; he remembered just enough of the events of the previous night to know that she'd been more than a little friendly towards him.

"What the hell Summer? You're married?" he exclaimed loudly, an edge of panic crept into his voice as he thought back to the rough warmth of her lips crashing against his and the feeling of her feathery hair brushing against his face.

"Err, well it's been a while since I saw you last so, you know, moving on?" Summer blabbered quietly.

"But what about la-"Sam protested, looking at her with hurt in his eyes.

"What are you talking about? All's that happened last night was that I told you to call me!" Summer said rather loudly "Now if you'll excuse me, I want to get back to my _husband_." And with that she abruptly turned around and disappeared into the hallway from whence she came. Sam stared at her retreating back, shocked and outraged that she'd used him like that, what the hell had she been playing at? Why couldn't she have just left things the way they were? Sam groaned, the whole thing was making his head hurt even more, and he just wished he could crawl back under the covers at his _own_ apartment and never hear the name Summer Alton again.

"Ya still havnae guessed my name yet" the red-haired woman said lightly, breaking the tense, heavy silence that had fallen after Summer had left. Sam thought for a second before a name popped into his with instant clarity.

"Lindsay." He said in a flat monotone.


End file.
